FROM THE WATCH TOWER

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 773, 20 September 1929, Page 8

FROM THE WATCH TOWER

By “THE LOOK-OUT MAN.” THE GLUTTON I love to read of thrills. Of the ghostly hand that kills, Of the wretch who’s tried conclusions with a girder. I find a balm and solace In the works of Edgar Wallace, And I revel in a spicy bit of murder. I like to go all goosy Over something realiw juicy In the manner of old Edgar Allen Poe, And as a bed time story Give me something truly gory— Though it isn't in the best of taste I know. As a hopeless movie fan My ideal is the man Who’s a master of the pistol or the knife, And I think a little sheiking— Now and then, and roughly speaking— Would sometimes add a little zest to life. When a shocker I have read, I look underneath the bed As every self-respecting spinster should. But so far as I can see. No one wants to murder me— Though I often find I’m wishing that they would. PRIM ROSE. HER GUESS The latest contribution to discussions of the servant problem is the experience of a local family that abhors pets, and dislikes birds so intensely that even the starlings on the chimney pots upset the domestic harmony. The maid was instructed to go forth and buy some Parrishes food. She arrived home with a large consignment of parrot seed. NEW WHEEZE FOR BALD PATE

The enterprising publicity man who has set about utilising bald heads as advertising space must be complimented on his originality. It is to be hoped that New Zealand will not be slow to follow his idea, which suggests a great opportunity for the Government to make a lot of money out of the Legislative Council. THE PRELIMINARY Meet Lachie McDonald, the Southern boxer, who evidently believes in the power of ballyhoo. Lachie states that he, meaning himself, is a ball of muscle, ready to fight the fight of his (or its) life, and that accordingly things will go hard with Hay, who is in the singularly unfortunate position of being the ball of muscle’s next victim. But much as the L.O.M. admires muscle, he believes even muscle should be reticent at times, and a liberal interpretation of the modest southerner’s claim seems distasteful. Besides, even a ball of muscle can be punctured. COLLECTING “THE BABY ” By a decision in the Magistrate’s Court Levin, of all places, a problem of years’ standing has been solved, and the way of well-meaning executives smoothed. The local football club was having a smoke concert. The secretary had ordered and paid for the necessary from the local hotel, but had failed to collect it. What is that no smoke concert is complete without? The answer to that riddle Is what the secretary later collected. According to the magistrate, the ordering and payment earlier in the day completed the essential parts of the transaction, and no after-hour trading was involved. The epochal decision was given by Mr. J. L. Stout, who to the bibulous will in future be a stout fellow in at least the convivial sense of the term. * * * SILVER TROWEL The home of a large secondary school entirely separate from the State-conducted evening classes, the Wanganui Technical College building, condemned after only 16 years in existence, seemed when tlie L.O.M. last saw it good for another century at least. That just goes to show 'that the most sinister things may lurk under the most prepossessing exteriors. What is of more interest locally is the fact that Sir George Fowlds, the Minister of Education, laid the foundation stone of the building in 1911, and duly received from the architect a silver trowel for his treasure chest. This was very thoughtful of the architect, particularly in view of the splendid work he appears to have put into the building. Pondering on that relic of a ceremonious occasion, Sir George Fowlds may now reflect with no little satisfaction that at least his part of the job was well and truly performed. The foundation stone has escaped criticism.